


Prisoner of the Rose

by gingayellow



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allurance begins in chapter five, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/M, Gen, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-04-07 04:42:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14073117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingayellow/pseuds/gingayellow
Summary: Once upon a time, Prince Keith was turned into a beast by a wicked sorceress for refusing to bow to Zarkon's will. He has accepted his fate as punishment for failing to protect his people... until Shiro, an escapee of the Galra Empire decides that he'd rather be the beast's prisoner than forced to serve an Empire he hates.Except the beast offers Shiro the gentleness the glittering Galra Empire has denied him, and much more. [Keith/Shiro, Beauty and the Beast AU (1991 Disney version), VERY sappy!]





	1. Prologue: Once Upon a Time...

Title: Prisoner of the Rose (Prologue/?)  
Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender  
Characters/Pairing: Shiro/Keith  
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer: Not mine, anything mentioned here by name isn't mine  
Warnings: None  
Notes: Every now and then, you have to write a Beauty and the Beast AU. I was nine when the 1991 film happened, so shockingly, this is influenced by the Disney film. Keith is the beast, and Shiro is the beauty, bc lbr!

\--

 

Once upon a time, there was a prince who lived in a castle. The castle was old and small, and the prince was not wealthy. But the castle was sturdy, the prince was honest, and his people loved him.

These happy times ended when Emperor Zarkon—ruler of the Galra Empire, a kingdom far more powerful than the prince’s small domain—demanded the prince supply soldiers for his war. He had mercifully allowed the Prince’s country to exist, therefore he was obligated to offer his people to Zarkon’s will.

The prince, who loved his people and hated injustice, refused. Zarkon, infuriated, commanded a mysterious sorceress to turn the Prince into a beast, and his servants into wild animals. The Prince, horrified with his claws and fur—but even moreso how he failed his people—fled into the furthest recesses of the castle. 

Zarkon had a son, a beautiful man who hid his cruelty with honeyed words. He convinced enough of the people that the Prince had brought this on himself. That his pride had stopped him from making an alliance with one of the strongest countries in history. Enough people sided with Prince Lotor that the country fell unto ruins, and nearly every able-bodied citizen was forced to join the Empire. 

There were whispers of a way to save the Prince. If someone was brave enough, gentle enough to approach the monster the Prince had become with nothing but unconditional love, then the spell might be broken. For love was stronger than even the sorceress, than even Zarkon. But none were brave enough to gaze into the eyes of the monstrous shadow that stalked the castle.

As the years passed, Prince Keith Kogane was forgotten, and all that remained was the beast.


	2. The Prisoner

Title: Prisoner of the Rose (1/?)  
Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender  
Characters/Pairing: Shiro/Keith  
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer: Not mine, anything mentioned here by name isn't mine  
Warnings: None  
Notes: Behold, a Shiro. (the second chapter will be up tomorrow, hopefully) I know I'm bad with finished stories, but I am super invested in this one, promise. ;;

\--

“Keith,” Pidge whispered into his ear. “Wake up.” Keith growled, hiding his head under the shreds of silk and cloth. This, of course, didn’t deter Pidge, who poked Keith’s snout with her beak. “Keith! We have an intruder!” 

Keith sat upright, then bolted on all fours. He thought people had wised up. Stay away from the castle with the monster in it. Don’t remind him of what he’d become—don’t remind him of what he’d lost. But no, he was going to have to frighten away someone else again. 

He growled deep in his throat as he leapt over what had been a table, heading for what had once been an exit from the kitchen. This was unusual. When people ‘visited’ the castle, they stuck to the borders in the daytime—and ran away as soon as they saw Pidge scouting. But someone had come to the castle, and if Pidge was right (and she always was), said someone was in the garden and the overgrown rose bushes.

Keith saw a hunched over figure next to the white roses, and he stood on his legs, letting the intruder see the monster he had become. “ ** _LEAVE THIS PLACE OR I WILL EAT YOU._** ”

The intruder cried out, tried to hide… but did not flee. Keith roared again, but the intruder was still.

Keith growled, but didn’t attack. The intruder was a man. A man with a scar that ran across his nose, unkempt dark hair with white streaks, and the threadbare outfit of a Galra prisoner. He also had a metal arm that looked Galra in origin. And his eyes… they were dark, and red-rimmed from crying, but resolute. 

“I’m sorry,” the man whispered, clinging to the rose bushes with his human hand. “But I will never leave this castle for the rest of my life.”

“That’s right you won’t,” Keith tried very hard to snarl, “because I’ll kill you!” By the spirits, why hadn’t this man bought his bluff yet?

The man stared at Keith for what felt like forever… and then almost smiled. “No. You won’t kill me.” 

“I could,” Keith said as he tried to snarl, but he suspected it looked more like a grimace.

“No. I’ve seen the eyes of murderers. I…” The man took several deep breaths. “You’re a beast, but you’re no murderer. Besides,” he said with a shrug, “there are fates worse than death in the Galra Empire.”

“You…” Keith had heard of men like this one. Kidnapped and conditioned into weapons for the Empire. He’d tried to spare his people such a fate, but he’d failed. Perhaps… perhaps…

“Very well. But you are my prisoner.”

“Of course,” the man said without a moment’s hesitation. “I’ll do whatever you want, just please. Let me stay.”

“You don’t have to…” But what else could Keith say? He was a monster taking a man into his ruined castle, presumably forever and ever. “Just follow me.” The man grunted as he stood up and followed Keith.

The man obeyed silently, leaving Keith to wonder just where this man was going to live. They had a small prison cell, but this man had done no actual wrong. He just wanted to be safe. The bedrooms were in a sorry state, but there was one that still had an intact bed and tub. It would do for now.

They were near the kitchen doors when Keith realized the man was limping, and shivering. Spirits, how could he have ever thought this poor soul was a threat? He crouched low. “Here. Hop on.”

The man blinked but climbed onto Keith’s back, arms wrapped around Keith’s neck.

Hrn. “I. I need to know my prisoner’s name.”

“Takashi Shirogane,” he whispered into Keith’s fur. “My grandfather called me Shiro. I guess you could too, if you wanted.”

“Shiro,” Keith repeated. 

“What’s your name—”

“Beasts don’t have names,” Keith said firmly as he trotted up the stairs, not unlike the cat his parents had owned when he was little. Shiro stilled but didn’t say anything. Thank goodness.

When they made it to the bedroom, Keith waited for Shiro to get off his back. “The door is unlocked. The room is dusty, but it will serve your needs.”

“Thank you,” Shiro whispered again, eyes huge at the sight of the bed. He stumbled past Keith, falling on the bed. Keith was worried, but then heard snoring.

“Rest, Shiro,” he growled as he left the room. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a white rose clenched tightly in Shiro’s left hand.

He was a prisoner because he’d stolen a rose from the garden. There. That worked.


	3. The Prince

Title: Prisoner of the Rose (2/?)  
Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender  
Characters/Pairing: Shiro/Keith  
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer: Not mine, anything mentioned here by name isn't mine  
Warnings: Alluded to trauma  
Notes: Shiro begins to slowly recover, meets a talking dog, and makes a promise.

\--

_She leers over you sharp teeth and claws and you can’t get away, you can’t, you can’t, pain, screaming, no, no, no—_

Shiro bolted upright, screaming, right arm glowing… but the sorceress was gone. And he was no longer a captive. 

Well, no longer a captive of the Galra Empire at least.

Shiro pulled his knees up to his chest, taking in his shabby surroundings. He’d heard rumors about the mysterious beast who guarded the missing Prince’s castle. No one knew why he was so attached to the castle. Some said he was the Prince’s pet. Some said he had eaten the Prince and claimed his territory. Other people who prided themselves on their logical natures (Shiro included) thought the beast didn’t really exist. 

But then Shiro had been “recruited” by the Empire, and met real monsters.

It was a gamble. He knew that. He was currently the prisoner of a… well, the beast was somewhere between a lion (the mane, claws, and fangs) and a hippo (the ears and the eyes, of all things). And he had threatened to eat Shiro—but it wasn’t the first time Shiro had been threatened with death/consumption of his corpse, and it wouldn’t be the last. 

And he had meant what he said. The beast hadn’t hated him—he’d been terrified that a stranger was in his castle. But he’d let him stay anyways.

He… he doubted he’d ever be safe again. But this was better than the sorceress.

There was a scratching at the door. Shiro frowned, not quite brave enough to leave the room just yet… but then he smelled food, and hunger overrode the need for safety. He went to the door and opened it a crack.

There was a basked with clean clothes, a jug of water, and ugly looking biscuits. Shiro glanced around but saw no one to thank.

He shut the door again, frowning at the biscuit. It looked like a wild animal had made it… but anything was better than the goo back in the Galra prison. So, he lifted the biscuit to his lip, took a tentative bite… and it was the best thing he’d eaten in years. What the food lacked in presentation, it more than made up for in taste.

He ate another biscuit, resolving to ration the rest, and then drank some of the water. After that, he investigated the clothes: a yellow shirt, brown pants, and boots. Too big for him, but they looked warm, and anything was better than wearing a prisoner uniform. 

There was another scratch at the door. Again, no one was there… but there was another jug of water (enough for a small bath), a chamber pot, and writing supplies.  
“Thank you,” he managed before bringing in the new supplies. One quick bath/avoiding looking at his metal later, he was dressed in clean clothes, fed, and felt far more human than he did last night.

That didn’t mean that he was ready to leave this room, however. He doubted that he ever would be. 

\--

And for the first few days, he didn’t leave the room, except to use the outhouse (which the friendly spirit had left directions, along with a map of the castle, in one of their deliveries). The rest of the world was too much, but he was as safe as he could hope to be in his room.

But as he kept receiving regular meals, baths, and at least some sleep, and had time to write a little (nothing more than thank you notes, but it was still interaction with the outside world), bits and pieces of the man he was before came back to him. One of those bits and pieces was his curiosity. Said curiosity had bitten him more than once in the past, but… but… he was dying to see just who else was in the castle. There was a chance that it was the beast, but he didn’t strike Shiro as especially domestic. Which meant that there was someone else in this castle. 

He was shaky, but he followed the map out the door, down the stairs, and into the kitchen. Like the bedroom, it was dusty, but well-stocked.

“I don’t understand,” Shiro whispered to himself. “If there’s only a beast here, why do they have enough ingredients to feed a large family—” His voice died in a yelp as a very large dog cornered him. 

“I—I’m sorry—” Shiro stammered as he hopped on the table. The dog wasn’t attacking him, but he was very loud.

**_BARK BARK BARK GET OFF MY TABLE BARK BARK BARK_ **

“Oh, right, sorry,” Shiro said as he slipped off said table. Wait. “You can talk?” 

“Yes, I can talk,” the dog said sternly. “It just takes awhile to understand me, that’s all.”

After everything Shiro had seen in his life, a talking dog should not have been startling at all. However, the dog was also mad at him. “I’m really sorry, I didn’t realize that this is your, um, place.”

“Humph!” The dog scoffed. “You can make it up to me by cracking those eggs.” 

“Yes, sir.” Sure enough, there were eggs next to a couple of bowls. Shiro began cracking. “If this is a cursed castle, why is there fresh food, that humans can eat?”

“All part of the ‘fun’ of a curse,” the dog howled sadly. “The sorceress who cursed us knew that I like cooking and baking, so she made the kitchen fully stocked forever, but with no hands, I can only do so much. Pidge helps, but she’s an owl, so.”

“Oh.” Shiro’s food was prepared by a dog and an owl. Still better than the Galra’s cooking. 

The dog order him to pour in flour and sugar, and Shiro obeyed him dutifully. “So, it’s true? The castle was cursed?”

“I’m living proof,” the dog said. “You can call me Hunk.”

“Shiro.” He began stirring. “So, what happened to the prince—”

Hunk huffed. “That’s something we don’t talk about, Shiro.” 

Oh. “Well, can you tell me anything about the beast?”

Hunk huffed again, but there was a thoughtful edge to it this time. “He’s the guardian of the castle, now that the prince is… well. He’s a good person—animal—you get the idea, but he takes his job a little too seriously. Hey, be careful with pouring that!” After Shiro apologized, Hunk added, “There are days that I don’t see him at all. But he’s also the reason why the Galra haven’t investigated here since they first cursed us all.”

“So, he protects us, but won’t let himself rest?” That just seemed… so incredibly sad.

“I know, but he doesn’t listen to me. Now, help me get this oven ready.”

“Yes, sir,” but his mind was elsewhere.

\--

After the cake Hunk had wanted to bake was done, he guided Shiro around the castle. Many of the rooms were in tatters, but the library was (mostly) intact. Shiro grabbed as many books as he could (because while he appreciated the beast’s protection, he had recovered enough to be **incredibly** bored) before retiring.

He was halfway through a novel about a princess and her servant lover when he heard a howl from outside, but it was too deep to be Hunk.

Shiro peered out the window and saw the beast’s silhouette in the moonlight.

He shivered at the sight, but that didn’t stop him from promising, “You’ve helped me. I will find a way to help you.”

\--

Hunk sat near his Prince. “I’ve been caring for Shiro like you requested, sire. Today I was lucky enough to meet him.” The Prince remained silent, so Hunk continued. “He’s a very kind man, sire. And he seems interested in you. If you want…”

“I… I can’t.”

“Sire, he accepted me. And I’m magic talking dog. I’m sure—”

“It’s not just about… about this.” The Prince gazed down at his unnaturally large, clawed hands. “If I had been stronger before, when Zarkon… every pain he’s endured, it’s because of me.”

The Prince’s exceptional eyesight allowed him to see Shiro at his window, despite being almost a mile away. Shiro’s dark hair cascaded around his shoulders, white bangs hiding one eye. It didn’t negate the intensity of his gaze, however.

He was beautiful. And resilient. And he deserved more than what his "captor" could offer him.

“He could never love a monster like me,” Prince Keith admitted to the cold night air.


	4. The Guardian

Title: Prisoner of the Rose (3/?)  
Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender  
Characters/Pairing: Shiro/Keith  
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer: Not mine, anything mentioned here by name isn't mine  
Warnings: Alluded to trauma, violence. One familial death mention.  
Notes: Keith is cornered by a hunter. Shiro puts his new arm to use in the rescue. 

\--

One would think, since the beast ruled the castle, and had at least one prisoner, he would be easier to find. Shiro was starting to realize that was not necessarily true. 

He had tried to find the beast for three days now, but he’d had no luck. He’d investigated every room that wasn’t locked, patrolled the grounds at night, and had pestered Hunk with questions so much that the dog who was almost Shiro’s size had run off crying one afternoon. 

He frowned, selecting a book with his human hand, then brushing the bangs from his eyes. He needed a haircut, but he was still clumsy performing tasks with his left hand. Placing a sharp object in said hand seemed like a poor life choice at the moment. Maybe he really was intruding where he wasn’t wanted—the beast had been nothing but kind to him, and all he asked was to be left alone. Perhaps Shiro, once again, wasn’t really needed after all. He was just a—

Don’t think like that, Shiro told himself sternly, making his way to one of the library’s (mostly) intact tables and chairs. Don’t let her win. 

… He would try one more time. If the beast still didn’t appear, then Shiro would respect his wishes, and never try to talk to him again. But Shiro also knew loneliness. True loneliness—when you grandfather died and it was after the funeral, and no one else was in the house. Or alone in your cell, no light, no hope of escape. He knew how that ate at the soul—and he saw it reflected in the beast’s eyes. He had to at least try.

“Hey.” There was insistent rapping at the window. “Hey, big guy!”

“Oh!” After living with Hunk, the idea of a bird yelling at him to open the window wasn’t a surprise. A small, but fierce-looking owl huffed as she hopped on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I was lost in thought. You must be the owl Hunk’s mentioned.”

“I am,” she said with a stern look. “I am Katherine Holt, but you may call me Pidge. And you must be the nosy human.”

Shiro tried to keep his composure, but that was proving difficult when an owl was scolding him. “Yes, well. It’s a cursed castle. Can you really blame me?”

“No, of course not,” Pidge said matter of factly. “Now, be a good human and take me to the science section of the library. I’m going to need those hands of yours.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” Shiro allowed the owl to guide him down dusty hallways to a particularly dusty tome. He took a seat as he hopped off his shoulder, and onto a desk. When she instructed him to turn to the sixty-second page, he obeyed.

Still, he was curious. “So, what are we looking at?”

Pidge gazed down at the strange marking intently. “It’s a code I created with my brother when we were young.”

“Oh, is he here at the castle…”

Pidge scraped her talons against the desk. “No.”

“I. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. It means he was spared the curse the rest of us carry. But I **will** send a message to him one day, and what better way than through air mail?” Pidge pecked at Shiro’s left arm gently, which he took as a cue to turn the page. “It’s been years since I’ve been able to review our code, much less be able to write, but now that someone with thumbs is here, this will be done in no time.”

“I’m going to warn you, I’m still learning to write with my left hand.” Thankfully, Pidge’s message was brief (although he did keep have to refer to the text and/or Pidge more than once). _Matt. This is Pidge. Come to the castle._ Shiro wondered how long Matt and Pidge had been separated but felt that it was rude to ask.

Other topics, however… “I guess the beast couldn’t perform this delicate a task, hunh?” He’d seen the beast’s hands. They were large, with strong fingers and long claws. Elegant and efficient for battle, but not so much for writing.

“Hey! He’s not a beast!” Pidge huffed as she hopped on the book, then pecked at Shiro’s left fiercely.

“Okay, I’m sorry!” Shiro yelped as he withdrew his hand. “W-what should I call him, then?”

Pidge stopped herself before she spoke. “You… are very sneaky.”

Shiro frowned, resting his chin in his metal hand. Foiled again. “Not sneaky enough.”

With a flutter of her wings, Pidge perched on the windowsill next to the desk. “Wanna know what’s really crummy about it all? He’d probably agree with the name.” Pidge sighed heavily. “Look. There are things about him I can’t tell you, no matter what. Not without his permission.”

“Yes, but I haven’t seen him for days—”

“I know,” Pidge said. Her tone was somewhere between sadness and resignation. “But he does that. A lot. Just understand that while he had a bad habit of vanishing, he never gets into—” 

“Pidge, we got trouble,” Hunk said as he leapt into the library. “I was looking for him because we were supposed to hunt together, and I caught of whiff of—of his blood—”

Pidge’s feathers ruffled until she looked like she was twice her size. “Are you sure?! Maybe Lance is just—”

“Lance has a bad sense of humor, but not that bad.” Hunk turned his attention to Shiro. “Shiro, I’m really, really sorry, but Pidge and I have to go. I promise, as long as you stay here, you’re safe—”

“I’m coming along.”

Hunk sat on his hind legs, eyes blinking twice in surprise. “You don’t have to, Shiro. I know you don’t do great with things outside the castle walls—”

“C’mon, Hunk,” Shiro said as he grabbed Hunk gently by the scruff of his neck, leading him to the door. “I’m a part of whatever we all are now. If I can help, I will.”

Hunk looked up at him, but didn’t stop his stride, tail wagging. “You’re very brave.”

Shiro laughed bitterly. “No, I’m not. I’m shaking in my boots.”

Hunk let out a short (literal) bark of laughter. “Shiro, take it from someone who used to shake in his boots all the time when he was a human. You’re very brave.”

\--

Shiro had some fighting skills, “thanks” to the Galra. Between Hunk’s nose and Pidge’s night vision, it was fairly easy to track the b—Hunk and Pidge’s guardian, but the trail was a long one. Apparently, the guardian liked to wander, as Pidge had informed Shiro as she flew in circles above them.

Shiro rested his left hand on Hunk’s back, grateful for even a little warmth in the cold night air. “Are we getting closer?”

“Yes,” and it was frightening to hear someone as gentle as Hunk growl—and then he bolted away, barking fiercely.

“Hunk, where are you—”

“Shiro, wait!” Pidge yelled. “There’s someone else—hunters!”

… Why, why hadn’t he brought a weapon with him? Oh, right, he’d been so terrified of leaving the castle he hadn’t even thought of that. As it was now, he was frozen, he couldn’t think, he couldn’t do anything—

Hunk howled in pain, falling next to Shiro. He didn’t move.

But now Shiro could move. He knew exactly what to do.

Pidge may have yelled again as his right hand whirred to life, glowing brightly with the strange mystical energies the sorceress had “gifted” him. The hunter staggered, but then brought out a word, blocking what would have been a punch to the face just in time. The hunter tried to strike Shiro with the sword, which was a mistake—now Shiro was the one blocking, grabbing the sword, tossing it to one side. He punched again, fist connecting with the hunter’s gut, grimly satisfied when he heard a shriek of agony—and then biting backing a gasp as he felt a white-hot line of pain against his left side. He afforded himself a glance and saw blood. He should have realized that a hunter would have a knife. Shiro staggered, suddenly dizzy. Apparently, the knife was coated in some poison as well…

Out of the corner of his eye, Shiro saw his guardian, lying in a weak heap, and he knew he couldn’t rest. Not yet.

He fought off another wave of dizziness when he heard some noise—Pidge was going for the hunter’s eyes. Good girl. He gathered what was left of his strength, grabbing the hunter by his shirt.

“Leave. Now.” Shiro made sure the hunter could feel the heat from his hand. “You can guess what happens if you don’t.”

The hunter ran off screaming.

… Which seemed to be enough to wake up the guardian, looking disoriented, but not bleeding. Not bruised. He was all right. Thank the spirits…

The last thing Shiro remembered was strong hands keeping him from falling into the snow. 

\--

Final Notes: I’m really sorry for this WiP taking so long to complete. I just wrapped up a semester at school, and my mental state has not been great. I’m officially on break now, so I’m hoping to at least put a dent in this work (among others).

As for the time between and pals being cursed and when Shiro meets them, let's say that 10 years have passed. Which means, yes, Pidge was five when she was turned into an owl. ;;


	5. The Hunter

Title: Prisoner of the Rose (4/?)  
Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender  
Characters/Pairing: Shiro/Keith  
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer: Not mine, anything mentioned here by name isn't mine  
Warnings: None (for this chapter)  
Notes: The calm after (and before) the storm.

\--

Pidge had accused Keith, more than once, of running off to sulk. That he was a brooding loner. That was, of course, a statement so bold for a commoner to say to a prince that it made Hunk gasp in horror, but she was right. He preferred his own company. He deserved it.

When he was in a mood like this, he would stalk the old paths, that only a few years ago were busy with young people running errands, couples enjoying the beauty of the woods, or older citizens stretching their limbs for the day. They were all gone now, of course. The Galra had forced them into factories, into armies, into wars. The young people were gone, and the old people were dead, along with any memories of his kingdom. All because he’d been foolish enough to think he could best Zarkon in a duel. That Zarkon wouldn’t use every resource available to him, including the sorceress. 

His own burden was small compared to all the people who’d died because of his mistakes.

It was the third night that he realized Hunk would worry, and he needed to return to the castle at least for a bit. At least to help Hunk hunt. But then he’d heard a small rustle. He huffed and told Lance that he wasn’t in the mood to talk, because who else could it be… and then he felt a knife in his back. 

He had to congratulate the hunter. He kept his weapons small and noiseless and had masked his scent. He clearly knew what he was doing—which meant that Keith was almost definitely going to die. He did his best to fight the hunter off, but he was dizzy from the poison, and tired…so tired…

But then Shiro was there. Face lit up by his Galra arm’s mysterious powers, every bit as bright and terrifying as the avenging angels that first chased away the demons so the world could live in peace, at least in the stories his nurse used to tell him. 

Except Shiro had been hurt. Badly. Because of Keith’s failure to protect him.

\--

Keith was a monster, and monsters were tough. Thus, he had healed from the poison within hours (and Hunk and Pidge’s care). Shiro, however, was too human for his own good. Hunk said he had a fever that wouldn’t break. Pidge was gone, looking for herbs (or a poorly guarded apothecary), which meant that he and Hunk were responsible for Shiro’s recovery.

He entered the room silently. Shiro needed all the sleep he could get. “How is he?” Keith whispered to Hunk.

Hunk was curled up into Shiro’s side, providing what warmth his body could. Shiro’s face was still flushed from fever, but at least he wasn’t shivering anymore. 

“It’s frustrating.” Hunk’s voice was soft, but the heat of anger still seeped into it. “If I had the right stuff, I could cure him right away; he could sleep the worst of it off. But right now? All we can do is keep him comfy.”

“I see.” Another way that he had failed those under his protection. “I… I’ll leave him to you, Hunk.” Hunk was capable—far more capable than Keith. It would be better for everyone if Keith—

Pidge rapped at the window. “Hey, Hunk! I ‘borrowed’ a few things from a doctor who was getting tipsy after work in the closest town!”

“Good,” Hunk breathed. He began to move but froze when Shiro cried out in his sleep. “Sire, I need you to keep him warm until I’m done.”

Keith would have preferred facing the hunter again. “I. Hunk, I’m not a comforting person.”

“You’ll be fine!” Hunk was on the ground now, nudging Keith in Shiro’s direction. “This will take me an hour, tops.”

“Hunk, I can barely fit in the bed—”

Hunk barked at him, then dashed off.

… Keith really was too big for the bed. It took some creative rearranging of the pillows, blankets, and Shiro until they were together, and Shiro at least looked comfortable. Keith eyed him warily. When Shiro had first arrived, Keith had been struck by how fragile he seemed. Hunched over, too quiet, too eager to hide himself from the world. And it was understandable. But he was strong as well. Despite everything, despite literally living with a monster… Shiro had sought him out. He wanted to be friends, and this was how Keith thanked him. 

Maybe the sorceress was right in cursing him.

Keith sighed heavily, pulling Shiro closer to him, hoping that his body heat would be enough. Some instinct deep within him compelled him to nuzzle Shiro’s face. “I never did thank you for saving my life.”

Shiro shifted, eyes opening a fraction. He looked disorientated for a moment, then gave a weak cough of a laugh. “So you say. But in actuality it was you who first did the lifesaving.”

Hmm. Definitely feverish. “Shiro, if you’re talking about when we first met… you saved yourself.”

Shiro managed to shake his head. “You’re the one who took me in, even though you must know that I…” He shuddered, but not from fever chills. “I’m a monster.”

If Keith was human, he would have run his hand up and down Shiro’s back. But he doubted claws and fur were comforting to a miserable man. “Shiro, you’re not—”

“They.” Shiro’s voice had a faraway quality to it. His eyes even more so. “They made me do so many bad things.”

“Yes. They did it. It was their fault. You did what you had to, so you could survive.” Keith settled for nuzzling Shiro’s face again. “And you saved yourself. You stared down the beast of the castle and made yourself a home here.”

Shiro still seemed too distant for Keith’s comfort, but after a moment, he dug his metal fingers into Keith’s fur. “You really think that?”

Keith nodded. “The three of us… we’ve been surviving, not living. But now that you’re here to care for, everything is a little easier.”

“So,” and Shiro smiled at him, very faintly. “My distress saved the day?”

“Yes, actually—”

“We are here to save the day!” Pidge declared. A small packet was in her talons, which she dropped on Keith. “Have him eat all of that.”

Hunk nodded. “He’ll recover from the worst of it in minutes. After that, it’s just a matter of resting.”

Shiro made a face, but he finished the medicine, closing his eyes again. He didn’t move from Keith’s side, but after a few moments (and a helpful reminder from Hunk), he placed his left hand on his forehead. “Hunh. Fever’s gone.” He opened his eyes again, and they were clear this time. 

“Good, good.” Hunk’s front paws were on the mattress. “Now, you’ll need to rest. Don’t forget to drink water and to eat, okay?”

Shiro nodded. When Hunk and Pidge didn’t leave their respective spots, Shiro patted the mattress. “C’mere, you two.”

Keith begin to get up. “I’ll let you three—” Hunk landed on his midsection, knocking the wind out of him. Pidge nested between Shiro and Keith’s heads. Like it or not, he was stuck here for the rest of the night.

Shiro still looked fragile, but he was smiling at Keith like he would at any other person in the world.

Maybe it wasn’t too bad.

“You know, I still don’t know your name.” Shiro spoke quietly, because poor Pidge and Hunk were already asleep. “And like Pidge reminded me, I can’t call you a beast.”

Keith considered his options. “Keith.” No mention of his past title. Just his name. That he could provide.

“Keith,” Shiro said gently, smiling again. “It suits you,” he added with a yawn. “You know, I think there was a prince from a long time ago named Keith… talk about a coincidence…”

“Yes,” Keith said, only after Shiro was sleeping deeply. “A coincidence.”

\--

“I have interesting news, Queen Haggar,” Sendak, a hunter who was… vocal with his desires to enter the Empire’s army, said with a low bow.

The Queen regarded him coldly. “And what price do I have to pay for this information?”

“A title.” He grinned toothily. “I also want part of the kill.”

“Done.” It was clear she was displeased with condescending to a peasant… but she could tell when someone had knowledge she wanted.

“Prince Keith Kogane is still alive. And your Champion is with him.”

\--

Final Notes: You may think that it is odd that Shiro hasn’t considered “Prince Keith disappears-->there’s a beast in Prince Keith’s castle named Keith,” but please remember in “The Voltron Show!” Shiro didn’t realize that Coran was a threat, even when Coran was on top of a space armadillo attacking them and screaming at them. Shiro is canonically very air-headed; I’m sorry, I’m just following canon. ;P

I’m not happy with this chapter, but what can one do, except to push through it? Hopefully, the next chapter will work better for me.


	6. The Princess

Title: Prisoner of the Rose (5/?)  
Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender  
Characters/Pairing: Shiro/Keith, Allura/Lance  
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer: Not mine, anything mentioned here by name isn't mine  
Warnings: ...Allura tosses otter Lance into a river? (Lance is fine)  
Notes: Lance and Allura finally appear! Also: Shiro makes A Move. This is admittedly indulgent fluff for my OTPs for this chapter.

\--

Once upon a time, there was a princess who was the sole heir and guardian of a dying people. The Alteans had been dwindling for generations, but it was her father Alfor who was burdened with the task of making sure what remained of his people would survive as their own resources were need to keep up an uneasy peace with the Galra Empire.

The Princess loved her people more than anything. Therefore, she suggested to her father that she offer her hand in marriage to the Galra crown prince, Lotor. A stronger alliance to the Galra would guarantee Altea’s safety. Her father was wary, but agreed. To her relief, Lotor condescended to marry a princess with little to offer his kingdom, and Altea was no longer a dying kingdom.

Then her father died.

She was mourning his loss to notice it at first. But after the first pain had dulled, if not faded (it would never fade) that her husband was a little too eager to mine what little resources were left, to relocate her more skilled citizens to Galra cities—and when she asked what would happen to the Alteans who were unskilled, who were too sick or old to fend for themselves, he told her that the world was meant for the strong.

It was then that she realized she had made a mistake, for herself and her people.

Princess Allura fled that same night, in hopes of finding… she didn’t know. But she had heard rumors of a beast that was no friend to the Empire. If she could somehow convince the beast to fight for her cause, then there was a small chance to save her kingdom.

\--

“Of course, it would be easier to save my kingdom if these blasted fish would bite,” Allura groused to the river. She’d had no luck in finding the beast, or the mysterious castle he was supposed to live in, and she hadn’t eaten since she had fled Lotor’s stronghold last night. There was no time to rest, of course, but she had to eat something quickly if she wanted to continue. She had assumed that she could catch a fish from the nearby river. She had assumed wrong.

She was just about to give up and keep traveling, but there was a strange _flop_ sound near her left. Allura glanced, and there was a decent-sized fish lying in wait, along with a very smug-looking otter.

Allura frowned. “I get it. You’re a better fisher than me, you don’t have to be so snotty about…” But then the otter nudged it in her direction.

“Oh, is this for me?” The otter actually nodded. Despite her situation, Allura had to smile. “You have my gratitude. I also insist that you share with me.”

“’Thank you!” The otter chirped.

Without thinking, Allura threw the otter into the river.

“Hey, it’s okay! I shouldn’t have started you!” The now drenched otter said as he sauntered back to Allura (who was still shocked at an **otter _talking_** , but he seemed friendly?). “Sorry. I keep forgetting that humans aren’t used to animals talking.” The otter huffed. “Nevermind that I used to be human.”

“I.” Allura took a breath. “Please tell me you’re not the beast of the castle.”

The otter laughed heartily, little paws on his hips. “No way! I work for him, though,” he added with a wink. “I know my roguish exterior may fool you, but I was a guard. I still do that, but I mostly stick to this river.” 

“You don’t say.” Allura took out the tools she would need to prepare the fish. “I’ve been looking for the beast, and—”

“Are you a hunter?” The otter was crouched low to the ground, not growling, but fangs bared. She could see him as a guard now.

“What? No! Check my things if you don’t believe me.” The otter did that, and Allura did her best not to smile as the otter very seriously (and very cutely) searched her bag.

“All right, you’re not a threat,” the otter decided. “Sorry about that, we had a scare a few days ago.” He perched on top of her bag. “In that case, why are you looking for him?”

“I need his help. My people are in trouble, and he’s the only one who could stop my husband’s schemes.”

“Ah, the beautiful damsel fleeing her cruel husband—”

“Please don’t call me damsel—”

“The strong-willed princess fleeing her husband seeks allies to stop him. Classic story, really.” The otter puffed up his chest. “Well, you have an ally right here in Sir Lance. As for the other guy, well… I will talk to him. You just wait here for now.”

\-- 

Things changed for Keith after that night. He wasn’t foolish enough to think he was redeemed or even hope to be redeemed. However, the heaviness that settled in his chest whenever he padded past Shiro’s door was no longer there. Sometimes he even felt bold enough to check on Shiro—which turned out to be beneficial, since Shiro suffered from nightmares. He usually woke Shiro up gently before calling for Hunk (who was better at these things), but one night Shiro grabbed onto him and wouldn’t let go for the world. And Keith… if this was what helped Shiro, then so be it. He always knocked and asked, of course, since despite appearances he was a prince and a gentleman, but Shiro always eagerly agreed that yes, Keith should spend the night. While spring was approaching, it was still cold at nights, cold enough that you would feel it even if you were covered with fur. 

He would steal small glances at Shiro’s face those nights. Even when he wasn’t overtly troubled by bad dreams, he looked…. troubled. A real prince would slay those who hurt him. Make sure they could never hurt him again.

But Keith had failed his people. He had failed Shiro. All he could do was keep Shiro warm, and hope that was enough.

\--

And maybe it was, since after Shiro recovered, he seemed. Well. Keith wasn’t sure how to phrase it. More centered, he supposed. Shiro would follow him when he patrolled the castle in the mornings instead of staying in the castle all day, at least. 

“Hunh,” Shiro said to himself one day as they walked past the rose bushes where Keith had captured him a few months ago. (Had it really been such a short time? It felt like Shiro had been here forever.) “They’re still in bloom.” 

Keith nodded, one clawed hand brushing against a white bloom’s petals. “They’re enchanted. No matter what the season is, they remain unchanged.”

Shiro was silent, pushing his white bangs out of his face. “That must be surreal.”

“It is,” Keith agreed. He took a breath. He could tell Shiro about this—he just had to omit a few details. “But my mother was a busy woman. I have no doubt that she loved me, but she was often on… trips. Tending to the flower garden was her one real luxury.” He felt the petals under his finger, but the fur muted the texture. “I’ll never forgive the one who cursed this castle and those who serve me, but this… I’m glad this is here.”

Shiro was gazing at him levelly, but there was some mischief in his eyes—Keith had known him long enough to detect such things. “Keith?”

“Yes.”

“Pick me a rose.”

“Why?”

“I want one.”

Keith tried to growl, but it came out as a huff. “You do realize that’s why you’re here in the first place, right?”

“Oh no, I might be captured again by the lion-hippo man… sorry.”

“No,” Keith said as he shook his mane. “I get the lion part, but the hippo?”

Shiro motioned to his own eyes, and ears. Keith mirrored his actions, feeling his ears, and yes, they were similar to that of a hippo’s. And he’d been ‘lucky’ enough to see his reflection enough to know that his eyes were similar to that of a hippo’s. He’d never even noticed.

“Excellent. Perhaps this form isn’t too bad after all.”

Shiro frowned. “I don’t understand. Why does resembling a hippo specifically make it better?”

“Because hippos are the most majestic creatures in the world, of course.” He’d never been able to see one in the flesh unfortunately, but he had studied them in books. Powerful, stoic, versatile. Everything a warrior should be.

Shiro hmm-ed serenely. “Well, anyways, pick me a rose.”

“Fine.” Keith used his right index claw to pluck one of the larger ones, then presented it to Shiro. “Why do you want one, anyways?”

Shiro looked much too smug for his own good as he… he stood on his tiptoes and placed it in Keith’s dark red mane. 

“Shiro, why…”

“Because,” Shiro whispered as he ran his left hand through Keith’s mane, “the roses aren’t the only lovely things here.”

“Shiro…” Keith blinked when Shiro boldly placed his palm against Keith’s jaw, fingertips resting against the protruding fangs.

“Keith, don’t argue with your prisoner.”

Keith felt embarrassed and light-headed at the same time—but there were so many complications to consider, despite whatever Shiro felt, or thought he felt. And it probably was just what he thought he felt. If he knew the truth after all…

Keith needed to go, but Shiro’s touch was so gentle. **Shiro** was so gentle, so infinitely fragile, and Keith just wanted to stay with him and protect him.

(But it was because of Keith Shiro had been hurt in the first place.)

“Keith!” Lance screamed at the top of his lungs. Thankful for the distraction, Keith ignored Shiro as he turned his attention to his obnoxious but loyal guard. 

“Lance, what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong? The most beautiful woman in the world is in danger! And Keith,” Lance leaned in, “she asked specifically for you.”

Keith growled softly. He was hardly in the mood to indulge someone who would most likely run off in horror once she saw him, but… but… he was a prince, and a guardian. He had to at least try.

“Shiro,” he said as he approached him. “I’m needed elsewhere. But rest assured that Hunk and Pidge will attend to you.”

“I’m sure they would, but I’m going with you.”

“Shiro.” It was a bad idea, after what Shiro had said, but Keith placed his hands on Shiro’s shoulders. “I know these things are hard for you.”

“They are, but you’ll be there. Besides,” Shiro said with a pointed look, “the last time you went out alone, you were nearly killed. Someone needs to watch out for you.”

“I won’t be alone. Lance will accompany me.”

“Ah, yes, Lance. Is that the otter who’s composing a very loud love song to the woman he just met?”

Keith sighed heavily. “Very well. But the moment things look bad, I’m escorting you home.”

“Of course.” Shiro was preoccupied with Lance, who was doing his best to scold Shiro for not understanding the complexity of the creative process. Shiro apologized sincerely for every crime. 

It was good that Shiro felt well enough to leave. It was good to have someone like Shiro at his side.

But Keith still meant what he said.


End file.
